


Illusion

by Reborn_Rekall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Dean Winchester Has Flashbacks of Hell, Dean Winchester Has PTSD, Dean Winchester Remembers Hell, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Pain, Post-Hell Dean Winchester, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27735361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reborn_Rekall/pseuds/Reborn_Rekall
Summary: After Sam and Dean part ways, Dean is kidnapped and finds himself in a living hell. Can he escape?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Motophagus

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Season 9 Episode 10. Each chapter has it’s own warnings.   
> Feedback and constructive criticism keeps the work going!

Cold

That was the first thing Dean became aware of. He was in his plaid pants and his black Henley, and he was _freezing_.

Last thing he remembered was laying in bed trying to get some sleep with the assistance of his good old friend Black Label. Now he finds himself somewhere wet, in the pitch black and with a hell of a headache. Not that this was an unfamiliar feeling, since he grew up living life in the night.

_What the hell?_

Dean investigated his surroundings, running his hand through the walls. He was barefoot, and the rough ground was cutting his feet. It seems like whatever place this was, it was made out of stone like some sort of cave. And it didn’t make it any easier that it somehow resembled his old “room” in hell.

“Cas? Cas, can you hear me?” He whispers.

Silence. Maybe this place is warded.

After his eyes got a little more used to the darkness, he could see that there was a door at the other end of the room. Carefully, he approached it and starts looking for the knob, but there was none. It must’ve been locked from the outside.

_Fuck I’m screwed._

Barely two days after Sam left and he’d already gotten in trouble. Could it be Abaddon? If so, why isn’t he already dead? Was she toying with him?

Dean’s thoughts ran wild and the deafening silence made everything worse. He scanned through the rest of the room, but the only results he gained were sore bleeding feet. So, he took a deep breath, sat down, and waited.

A couple of hours passed and Dean maintained his patience. He was convinced he knew how to wait. But those hours got longer and extended to the point where he was sure he was in there for at least a day. A day cold, bloody, and filled with hunger.

One day turned into two, which turned into three. Dean got lost in time, and he couldn’t tell the difference anymore. His muscles were stiff and he was pretty sure that the cuts on his feet were getting infected.

“I’m gonna go insane.” He mumbled, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. “Did you hear me? I’m going crazy in here! If you wanna kill me, have the guts to look me in the face and put a bullet in my brai-”

With a loud screech, the door opened. Strong lights burned his eyes, but Dean could see the silhouette of several people entering the room. Too many to count, but they were clearly men, and were _way_ bigger than him.

As adrenaline pumped through his veins, he got up and ignored the sharp pain in his feet. He raised his hands, ready to take down whoever got any closer but courage wasn’t enough today. He suddenly felt weak, like he was going to pass out. It was probably the dehydration and he didn’t have the strength to take anyone down right now. So he decided to do this the old Winchester way: Being cocky.

“Look guys, how about this: You let me out of here and maybe some of you will get out of here aliv- ARGH!” One of the men cornering him lauched a quick punch, but it was just the beginning. Dean was punched, kicked, beaten to the ground until he couldn’t move anymore and he was choking on his own blood. Once they finished the round of abuses they left, simple as that.

Dean stayed on the ground for a long while, unable to move and coughing a worryingly amount of blood. He was sure those kicks must’ve damaged some internal organs.

The door opened again, fright causing him to try to move away with a painful groan. Only one person got in the room this time. The man stood, watching for a few long seconds and Dean realized that he had something in his hands.

With a dark chuckle, he threw a bottle of water at him, and opened what seemed to be a can, dumping the contents onto Dean’s face. Dog food.

“Eat up, pretty boy.” Disgust clear in his voice.

Dean had no choice, it was either the dirty dog food that was half on the ground and half on his face, or starving. He pushed his pride aside and he swallow the wet food, but the sense of humiliation was still very present.

Once done, he drank the whole bottle to try and wash the taste away. The door was opened a third time and the numerous men returned, some with buckets in their hands.

“Look guys, just tell me what you want.” He tried.

They didn’t come any closer, they just standing, and watching. Dean was anxious with the judgment behind eyes he couldn’t even see, until one of them announced.

“Do it.”

The buckets filled with water and ice, were dumped onto him. It felt as if his bones were freezing. Unable to move, he could only wait for it to end. But once it did, he felt his heart stop beating with a distinctive sound.

With the opening sound of a zipper, one of the men invited his partners.

“C'mon guys, you know the cold makes me hard as fuck and this guy’s ass is just too _good_.”

“No. Please, no.” Dean tried weekly as the owner of the voice walked in his direction.

“Hey! Put it back in your pants. Boss said to leave this one alone, he has other plans.” The zipper closed, and he was once again left alone.

Dean felt ashamed. Ashamed that he couldn’t fight and that he was acting like a victim. The strong sensation washed over him, until it disappeared completely.

“What the hell?”

Dean realized that during his time here, whatever feeling he had would mysteriously vanish, leaving him weaker than before. He tried to resist sleep, but that weakness took over once again.

Waking up, he found himself with wrists and ankles cuffed to a bed. What seemed to be a Djinn came close to him, hand creeping towards his face. Once they touched him, flashes of his time in hell began to roll behind his eyes. Not just flashes, it was like he was reliving it all over again, all that torture at once. Every physical and emotional pain he ever been through was coming full speed and all he could do scream.

Dean’s past remained a constant loop until he got ripped away from his memories with a slap.

“Hey hey hey. Are you okay?” a voice whispered from afar. Face soaking wet with how much he’d been crying in his painful haze, he could only cry harder and beg.

“ _Please!_ Please stop, I’ll do anything! I just, I-”

A woman appears in front of him, taking his face into her hands and he looks deep into her eyes, the first pair that he’s been able to see clearly in days. There’s no judgment in them, just warmth. She sushes and quickly unshackles him, goes back to face him.

“You’re okay, look at me. It’s okay, I promise. They’re dead, those people can’t hurt you anymore.”

She tries to soothe him, but with everything Dean just relived, all he would do was hug her tight and cry.

“It’s okay. I’m here, I’m not leaving you.”

In the middle of the hug, Dean realized that there were numerous decapitated heads on the ground. Pulling back, she noticed his expression and tried to explain.

“Look, I know this might be confusing for you but that thing that was hurting you was a monster called Motophagus. I’ll explain ever-”

“You’re a hunter.” he interrupts. She looks at him surprised, hands on her gun ready to attack.


	2. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should Dean trust the woman who saved him?

Once Dean picked up on her movements, he paled. The face he woke up to, that had been so caring, now lit up with fiery suspicion.

“How the hell do you know what a hunter is?” Words coming out quick and sharp.

“Because I’m a hunter too.” He responded cautiously “I know what you’re thinking right now, but-”

“Really?“ She interrupted, doubt clear in her expression. "Then you know that to me it looks like you’re probably one of them, being used as bait. If you’re really a hunter, then you know what I gotta do…”

Dean nodded and the woman proceeded to slowly pull out a silver knife from her thigh holster, a flask of holy water on her utility belt, and other materials she had on her. He was more than familiar with them, had been through this testing more times than he could count. After proving himself to be fully human, she did the same to herself so he could also have some peace of mind.

“C'mon, let’s get you out of here.” She put his arm over her shoulder to help him walk, but as soon as Dean’s feet hit the ground he lets out a loud hiss and falls to his knees, dragging her with him. The woman then realizes that his feet are completely torn up.

“Fuck.”

She was built but she couldn’t carry a man like Dean, especially when more of those monsters could be around. It was going to put both of them in more risk than they already were. She was analyzing her options when a wheelchair that probably belonged to one of the older victims appeared in sight.

“C'mon” Tone leaving no room for protest. Dean was slowly placed in the wheelchair, every inch of his body either aching or trembling with the cold. The women guided him out of the room, and the hallways proved to be no better than where he’d been bound.

Whoever this hunter was, she was skilled. The walls of the place were beyond bloody, dozens of corpses were spread all over, just wheeling him through the pieces proved to be quite a challenging task. This was a certain type of massacre, one Dean had seen few times despite his extensive hunting experience, and when he did it was probably something cause by high-ranking demons. Or himself.

Reaching an exit door, they finally made their way out of the carnage. It was the first time in days Dean had been able to see any hint of sunlight. The place he’d been trapped in was a grey abandoned building sitting in the middle of vast and dark pine woods.

Led to a car, he tried to suppress a painful whimper as the woman sat him in the backseat.

“Take your clothes off.”

“No.” He blurted, out of a newfound instinct.

“Your clothes are soaking wet, you have to change.” Trying to reason with him.

“No, I’m not going to change.”

Exhaling heavily, she circled the vehicle and rummaged through the trunk until finally coming back with a jacket and a blanket.

“I’m going to take care of the bodies, if you want to change while I’m gone then that’s fine” She tried, giving him the items before striding back towards the building.

Dean stared at the dark jacket; fuzzy on the inside, seemed cozy. The offer was just too tempting, he had to get himself together and push the dreadful fear elicited earlier. He decided to take off only his shirt. After closing the zipper to the jacket, he saw the building explode with a raging fire and the woman on her way back.

Once the car roared and sped down a bumpy road, Dean tried praying to Cas again but the angel still didn’t show up.

_Is the entire land warded?_

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N. Sorry for being rough with you, I have a couple of trust issues.” Her words startling Dean out of his thoughts.

“My name is Dean. Dean Winchester.” He forced himself to speak. “Don’t feel sorry, that suspicion is what keeps you alive.” Her warm smile came back, reflected in the rearview mirror and making him feel more relaxed.

“We’re going to a motel and we’re patching you up, okay Dean?”

“Okay.” He breathed, exhausted. A lot had happened in little time and his head was messed up. Compromised: as much as he hated the word, it was true, Dean was emotionally compromised. God, he just needed some rest, but as soon as he started dozing off he heard Y/N’s worried voice.

“Hey Dean, please don’t sleep. I don’t know how hurt you are, looks like you’re gonna survive but I still wanna make sure your not gonna start hibernating back there permanently.”

Their destination was a motel, unsurprisingly. Y/N discreetly carried Dean from the parking lot to her room, trying not to catch too much attention. Once he was laid down on a bed, Y/N started examining what kind of abuse he had been subjected to.

“Can I?” Asking gently, referring to the jacket.

After an approving nod, she pulled the zipper down and gasped when upon the sight of Dean's stomach black and blue.

“It’s okay. Uh- I’m okay.” He mumbled when he felt her intense gaze, unconsciously moving his hand to close the jacket. She stopped him from doing so and ordered.

"Open your mouth.”

“What? Why?” Knowing what she was clawing at.

“Don’t lie to me. You’ve been bleeding and swallowing it down, haven’t you?”

“I said I’m fine!” He answered firmly, gaining back some of his spark. But she swiped her finger on the corner of his mouth, bringing it back bloody.

“No, you’re not, not at all.“ Retorting anxiously as she moved away to retrieve one of her duffle bags. "This is more serious than I thought. Dean I know you’re a hunter and you want to be strong, but you’re seriously hurt. I can’t take you to the hospital, but I have a healing spell here that I use when things get nasty. I’ll perform it if you let me. So what’s it gonna be?”

Dean thought about it; he tried praying one last time but Cas wasn’t responding and he could never call Sam after what they’d been through. This woman had helped him and was now the only person he had to rely on, so he threw caution through the window and responded

“Do it.”

“Ok, I’ll prepare the ingredients real quick here.” With that, she went to work. For a while, the only thing that occupied the silence was the sound of fast crunching of what seemed like herbs. Dean’s thoughts started getting loud, so he tried to get some insight to keep them away.

“What were they? Those things that captured me?”

“They are called Motophagus. They’re similar to a Djinn, who feed off human emotion. The difference is that Motophagus capture their victims, inflict a tremendous amount of trauma and instead of giving you the illusion of a happy life, they loop all of what you’ve been through so they can feed off those emotions as much as they want.” Her words caused a shiver to run down Dean’s spine. “Most of them are pack creatures, live hidden in Brazil but a contact of mine told me of a group here in the States, so I took the first plane.”

“You’re from Brazil?”

“Yep. My folks are american though, they decided to move out after finding an outcasted motophagus. Son of a bitch gave away the location of his old pack and many others before he died, guess he was vengeful.” Explaining as she moved the mysterious herb to a bowl. “I’ve been hunting these creatures my entire life, but they’re moving to places where most hunters don’t know about their existence.”

“They-“ Dean hesitated, weighing his words. Should he even talk about this? "They were going to do something to me.” He whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“A couple of guys were going to make a move on me, but one of them mentioned that their boss had other plans…” He stated, keeping his gaze away from her in shame. Y/N swallowed hard and sat on the bed with the bowl ready in hands.

“Have you been through a lot before they captured you?”

Dean wasn’t prepared for that question, he gulped and murmured a small “Yeah.”

“Then they probably sensed that pain from your past. They figured out they didn’t need to create any trauma because you already had enough, so they went straight to feeding.” Y/N concluded before handled him the bowl. “It’s ready, I just have to start the incantation.”

“Wait. Where did you learn this?” he wondered out, second-guessing his decision.

“Amazonian Native Americans.”

Dean nodded his approval, taking a deep breath as she began chanting and he followed her instructions.

“Drink the herbs, Dean. Now, repeat after me: Eu aceito.”

“Eu aceito.” Once he finished saying those two words, his vision darkened and the pain he felt increased. With a guttural scream, he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and constructive criticism keeps the work going!


End file.
